The Avoidance of Snow in a Poem about Minnesota

In the desert, sand is obvious,
But the birth of pineapple is not.
In prison, the clank of metal clings,
But the sounds of geese do not.
In bars, the smell of alcohol sags,
But the scent of love is scarce.
In morgues, death does dance.
But the pirouette is done poorly.
In famine, bones sing loudly.
But the orange melody escapes.
In refugee camps, laughter rots.
But a joke can still jump a fence.
In race wars, mottled skin melts.
But pure pigment remains frozen.
In movies, the star disappears.
But the child inside still chafes.
In church, God is afraid to speak.
But outside, even He screams forever.

The Pear Sacrifice

Half the crop goes to waste.
The reasons are innumerable:
A fear of heights, poor balance,
Ignorance of the exact moment
Pear flesh turns from perfection
Into gravity-driven rot, falling
In a mushy coat over weeds,
Stubborn branches, humped
Shoulders of a philanthropist
Dealing in half-bushels, rather
Than fellowships and bequests.
In this summer’s half-shadow,
Those pulpy pilings resemble
A ragged caricature of tears.
But next year, their wasting
Will feed a hunger for difference,
A need to taste sweet memory,
And squishy deaths will turn
Into bursts of flavor so bright
The sun’s heart will near a stop